Rory the Roman History Teacher
by can-you-imagine
Summary: Rory's tired of stress. Being a nurse is stressful. More stressful than a history teacher. He could do it too. 2000 years of experience. Living history and all that. Roryfic. "Look, Headmaster Wilkins, you won't find another person who is as qualified as I am. I know history. I've lived most of it. And I would like to work here."


A/N: So I just sat down and wrote this. And it rocks. I happen to think it's very clever. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: THIS IS A DISCLAIMER.

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Everybody (meaning Amy and the Doctor) had the tendency to forget Rory was a plastic Roman Centurion for OVER 2000 years. He met Caesar. He protected Caesar. From the many, many people who wanted to kill him. Those senator lads wouldn't have gotten away with that whole stabbing thing if it hadn't been Rory's day off.

And then Rory lived for 2000+ years. And he remembers all of it. Not all of it all the time, but when he needs to know all the names of Byzantine's emperors, he can bring that up.

When he and Amy are back in England for good, done with the Doctor and moving on with their lives, he finds that he just doesn't want to be a nurse. He himself hasn't changed, he still loves helping people and still helps patch every single child crying because they fell on the sidewalk he sees. Frankly, he's just too tired. Too plain worn out. Being a nurse in a hospital is a high stress job, and he's had enough of high stress thank-you-very-much.

When he poses the idea of him of becoming a history teacher to Amy, after he explains his reasoning and she stops looking so concerned she supports him totally. Then she says: "At least promise you won't be one of those crotchety old grumpy teachers, and you'll be the cool history teacher with the model wife." He says he'll try and then she gives him a mischievous smile (you can see where River gets it from) and pulls him by the tie (why is Rory wearing a tie in the first place?) and things happen that none of us need to think about in detail. This is Amy after all.

And now Rory is sitting in the Headmasters' Office of a fancy private (in the American sense) school. The Headmaster is a man of 60 or so years, imposing and hair the colour of steel. Rory isn't bothered. He's fought aliens and been inside a robot version of his wife and met his grown up daughter before she'd been born. He's Rory the Roman and while the Headmaster (Wilkins, the nameplate says) grills him about where he went to University and where else he's taught before and references and such Rory just sits back in the chair and calmly responds.

"Look, Headmaster Wilkins, you won't find another person who is as qualified as I am. I know history. I've lived most of it. And I would like to work here." Then he hands over a physic paper he stole from River the last time she visited and the Headmaster gapes at his "references" and Rory's hired.

As Rory thanks him, shakes his hand and leaves, he can still hear the Headmaster muttering about the Archbishop of Canterbury.

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He starts a few weeks later at the start of term, two days after Amy dragged him suit shopping. He hates it and not just because every time he looks at a blue or brown suit he gets this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He walks into classroom 221 in a NOT blue or brown suit. He puts his briefcase on the desk and takes a seat, spinning around and wondering what the hell possessed him. He's early, so he leans back in tha chair and puts a book over his face.

He wakes up when the kids start to file in, muttering questioningly to each other about the new history teacher. He doesn't get up yet though, and when the bell rings, he leaps from the chair into a standing position with his hands on his desk. Most of the class jumps. Rory stares at them, eyebrows raised. He plops down his book with a _smack_ and stands back up. He adjusts his glasses, which he deems necessary, and turns to start the day.

"Hello class, I am Professor Williams, and welcome to Early European History-"

"What if I don't want to call you Professor Williams?" a nasal voice says.

Oh hell. It's Mels reborn into a pudgy 13 year old boy. The skinny brown haired girl's eyes are wide with fear of the response. Private school kids.

"Then you may call me Professor Pond. Any more questions, Mr?"

"Matthews, Jeff Matthews. Sir." Already perplexed them, that's a good start.

Figures his name would be Jeff.

Rory sits on his desk. Clearly, these children have never had a teacher like Rory. They need to learn quick.

"I used to be a nurse. Before that I was a Roman, don't ask. I've traveled around remarkable places, seen remarkable things, and there will be no. Tricking. Me. My wife's a supermodel and I wear this bracelet from summer camp on my wrist on Tuesdays."

A hand goes up. He points, asking for her name in the process.

"Alice Hansen, and um, why Tuesdays?"

"I like Tuesdays, nothing ever happens on Tuesdays."

"Today's Tuesday," a timid voice from the back offers.

"And no one's tried to kill me yet, so I'll take that as a win."

Clearly he's impressed them. He does the administrative crap and passes out all the forms for their parents to sign. He gives them a textbook and goes to the board, picking up a piece of chalk.

"We start in the year 753 B.C."

There's no one better at this than Rory the Roman. Rory Williams loves his new job too. Rory Pond looks forward to perplexing the children and bringing in his Gladius.

There's no one better at this than him.

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So props to everyone who got all the references. And extra special props to anyone who caught the Sherlock Holmes reference. And I mean Private School in the American sense of a fancy pancy school where people pay a lot of money and wear starched uniforms. It's all very snotty.

You can tell I went to Public school.

REVIEW! SMILES! CYI


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